IN  MEMORY  OF 

SARAH   EARLE   STEVENS 

BOSTON 

xviu  April  MDCCCXCVIII 


IN   MEMORY   OF 
SARAH    EARLE    STEVENS 


SICVTLILIVM 
INTER  SPINAS 


BOSf 

Privately    issued 

COPELAND 

XVIII    April 


TON 

or  the  family  by 
AND   DAY 
MDCCCXCVm 


Sarah  Elizabeth  Earle,  daughter  of  Ethan  and  Mary 

Peirce  Earle 

Born  in  Middleborough,  Massachusetts,  1 8th  April,  1836 
Married  by  Rev.  Dr.  Baron  Stow,  of  Boston,  and 

Rev.  Dr.  J.  W.  M.  Williams,  of  Baltimore 
to  Joseph  Cony  Stevens,  Boston,  8th  September,  1863 

¥ 

Children:  Alice  Howland,  died,  1865 

Joseph  Cony,  died,  1867 
Joseph  Earle,  Arthur  Wesselhbeft 

¥ 

Died  in  London,  yth  September,  1897 

Buried  at   Forest   Hills  Cemetery,  Boston 

22nd  September,   1897 


SARAH    EARLE   STEVENS 

HERS  was  a  soul  attuned  to  joyous  strain  ; 
A  heart  brimful  of  love  for  light  and  cheer 
And  all  sweet  sounds  ;  a  life  from  which 
flashed  clear 

The  gem  of  generosity.     No  gain 
She  sought  for  self,  nor  ever  faintest  stain 
Of  worldly  wisdom,  as  men  count  it  here, 
Was  hers  ;  and  (as  to  children  blest  and  dear) 
To  her  no  law  save  that  of  love  was  plain. 
No  pleader  from  her  door  was  sent  astray, 
No  erring  one  denied  the  little  hand 
That  helped  the  rich  and   poor,  the   high  and 

low. 

She  lived  and  loved  ;  and  then  she  went  away 
To  hear  celestial  music  in  the  Land 
Whose  harmonies  surpass  the  ones  we  know. 

E.  L.  G. 


MRS.     STEVENS'S     DIARY     OF     HER 
LAST   JOURNEY 

LEFT  Boston  in  "  Cephalonia,"  June  26, 
1897,    Saturday,  five    p.m.  ;   lovely,  quiet 
voyage ;    few  sick ;    broke   shaft   July    4 ; 
towed    into    Queenstown,   400   miles,    speaking 
"  Majestic "   the   6th,  by   a  tramp    steamer,  the 
"  Floridian,"   who   took  us   Sunday  at    4   p.m. ; 
arrived   Queenstown,    Wednesday,  yth ,   at    9.30 

5 


p.m. ;  left  at  midnight  by  special  train  to  Dublin  ; 
special  boat  to  Holy  head  in  morning,  then  to 
Chester,  and  two  hours'  waiting,  to  London  at 
4.20,  Mrs.  Allen  meeting  us  at  Euston  station 
at  8. 20,  but  no  trunks  ;  8th,  pth,  went  to  opera, 
"  Marriage  of  Figaro," —  Eames  and  Edouard  De 
Reske,  De  Vere,  Bauermeister ;  loth,  got  a  ring  for 
Joe  and  saw  "  Yeoman  of  the  Guard  "  with  Mrs. 
Allen  in  p.m. ;  loth,  Sunday,  dined  with  Mr. 
Clifford;  I2th,  missed  "Siegfried"  and  Jean 
DeReske ;  i4th,  Mr.  Clifford  dined  with  us  and 
we  missed  "  Meistersinger ; "  Angie  went  to 
Holland ;  our  two  trunks  were  found,  arriving  at 
Royal  Hotel  just  as  she  had  left ;  we  dined  again 
with  Mr.  Clifford  and  his  Bishop  brother  and 
wife. 

Saturday,  iyth,  Arthur  came  and  spent  Sunday 
with  us,  leaving,  I9th,  for  his  bicycle  trip  with 
James  Arthur  and  Sam  Robinson  ;  all  lunched 
with  us  and  went  to  Hampton  Court ;  I  invited 
Madame  Sterling ;  took  her  and  Kenneth  home 
to  dinner ;  Arthur  lunched  with  Malcolm  Mon- 
day, and  we  dined  there  at  night ;  Tuesday  we 
heard  "  Romeo  and  Juliet  " —  Eames  and  Jean 
De  Reske ;  they  never  did  better ;  saw  Princess 
of  Wales,  Duchess  of  York  and  Duke,  and  Vic- 
toria, princess,  in  royal  box ;  Mr.  Clifford  dined 
with  us  Wednesday,  2ist ;  Ida  Davidson  and  hus- 
band arrived  from  America  at  8  p.m.,  and  we  left, 
22d,  at  9  a.m.,  for  Newcastle,  thence  to  Bergen,  a 
nasty  trip  ;  Miss  Hirschfeld  on  board;  Bergen, 
Saturday,  24th  ;  visited  a  horrid  museum  and  left 
6 


Sunday,  25th,  for  Stalheim,  arriving  at  4, 
leaving  Monday  at  8 ;  met  the  Lewises  from 
Chicago  at  Gudenvangen ;  crossed  the  Fjord ; 
night  at  Laerdalsoren,  taking  carriage  across  the 
country ;  Tuesday  morning,  27 th,  Nestuen ; 
28th,  29th,  Fajennes  ;  joth,  Odnaes  ;  joth,  Chris- 
tiania ;  shook  hands  with  Ibsen  at  hotel ;  Miss 
Hirschfeld  there ;  night  train  to  Stockholm, 
meeting  Mr.  Lawrence  Abbott  on  the  train,  who 
did  the  city  with  us  Sunday  and  Monday,  leav- 
ing us  Monday  night ;  Grand  Hotel ;  changed 
our  rooms  ;  Lewises  there ;  left  Wednesday,  4th, 
for  Gota  canal,  arriving  Gottenburg  Friday, 
6th  ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Terry  with  us  to  Copen- 
hagen the  8th  ;  went  to  Hamburg,  drenched  with 
rain,  Monday,  9th ;  Mr.  Voigt  dined  with  us ;  dined 
with  Mr.  Ripke  loth;  left  for  Berlin  nth; 
Potsdam  i2th;  and  Aniline  Mills  ijth  ;  Munich 
Gallery,  i4th;  and  Botzen  for  sleep  ;  met  Hes- 
seltines,  of  Melrose ;  left,  1 5th,  for  Venice, 
Grand  Hotel ;  mosquitoes  and  hot ;  left  Tuesday 
for  Milan,  with  pleasant  Americans,  Mrs.  Butcher 
and  son  and  others,  she,  in  our  car ;  Hotel  Grand 
Bretagne ;  cathedral  and  "  Last  Supper "  after 
breakfast ;  cars  to  Laveno ;  boat  to  Pallanza,  for 
four  hours;  diligence  to  Gravellona;  cars  to  Domo 
D'Ossola  at  n  p.m.  i8th;  Simplon  pass  I9th  in 
pouring  rain  ;  Brigue  at  7  ;  Zermatt,  2Oth  ;  Corner 
Grat  for  papa,  2ist;  letters;  left,  22d,  for  Brigue 
and  for  Rhone  Glacier,  where  we  arrived  at  9  p.m. ; 
cold  and  rainy  where  I  am  writing  this ;  leave  at 
2.45  for  Meirengen  ;  23d,  too  high  for  me  to  eat ; 

7 


over  the  Grimsel  ;  a  fine  new  road  three  years  old, 
imposing  and  rocky ;  arrive  at  the  pretty,  clean 
village  of  Meirengen  in  the  evening  ;  can  only 
take  milk  ;  left  at  12,  and  found  I  had  lost  book 
out  of  my  cape  pocket ;  returned,  allowing  papa 
to  keep  on  to  Interlaken  ;  we  didn't  find  book 
and  got  to  Interlaken  at  4.  Papa  met  me  and  we 
walked  to  the  Beau  Rivage  Hotel ;  called  on  the 
Worthleys  at  Victoria,  after  hearing  a  .Kursaal 
concert ;  met  Tom  Gannett  oh  way  back  ;  Aug. 
25th  wrote  proprietor  Hotel  Sauvage  to  advertise 
my  book  and  return  to  Cook  &  Son.  Papa  bought 
me  a  silver  purse  and  bracelets,  picture-frame,  and 
pins.  It  began  to  rain  hard  just  as  we  returned  to 
hotel ;  leave  at  2  for  Neuchatel ;  so  glad  to  be 
down  where  things  grow  !  Aug.  26th,  Neuchatel, 
a  pretty  town,  with  fine  buildings  and  a  lovely  lake ; 
arrived  last  night ;  met  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peale  on 
train  from  Interlaken  ;  he  used  to  know  George 
Mowton,  of  Treverton,  Pennsylvania ;  leaving 
for  Paris  at  8  a.m. 

Aug.  27th,  Paris  !  Arrived  in  pouring  rain ; 
had  a  delicious  dinner,  and  have  our  old  rooms ; 
I  feel  at  home  and  happy,  as  I  haven't  for  weeks 
or  since  we  left  home. 

In  Mrs.  Stevens's  Bible  was  written  this  stanza : 

"  I  cannot  tell  the  art 

By  which  such  bliss  is  given, 
I  know  —  Thou  hast  my  heart 
And  I  —  have  Heaven  !  " 

8 


SUNSHINE   AND    ROSES 

SUNSHINE  and  roses  and  sweet  summer  air 
Spoke  for  you  on  your  burial  day,  dear  sou) ; 
Sunshine  and  roses,  for  Love  was  the  whole 
Of  your  life  Here,  and  must  be  also  There  ! 
Beyond  all  mortal  dreams  of  grief  or  care, 
Beyond  all  fears,  or  mortal  joy  and  dole, 
Where  the  immortal  tides  of  being  roll, 
You  dwell  —  of  Life's  last  mystery  aware. 
Across  the  stormy  seas  that  we  call  Death, 
O'er  surging  sorrow  and  unfathomed  pain, 
From  the  far  depths  where  human  hopings  cease, 
Flashes  the  message  of  your  last  soft  breath. 
Sunshine  and  roses  uttered  it  again, 
And  every  gentle  zephyr  whispered  "  Peace  !  " 

M.  C.  S. 

¥        ¥ 


MEMORIES 

A  LETTER  dated  a  year  ago    lies    before 
me  :   it    is   from   her  pen   whose   cheerful 
and    sparkling   messages    were    always   so 
welcome.      The    little     incident    that    was     the 
occasion    of    her    writing    pleasantly    illustrates 
her    warm     sympathy     and     ready     helpfulness. 
One  afternoon  she  accompanied   her  guest,  who 
was   leaving    her    hospitable    home  after  a   brief 
visit,  to  the  railroad  station,  and  was  kindly  wait- 

9 


ing  the  departure  of  the  train.  From  the  car 
window  we  noticed  a  middle-aged  man  of  respect- 
able appearance  standing  outside  and  weeping 
bitterly.  The  unusual  sight  of  a  strong  man  in 
tears  attracted  our  attention,  and  as  he  was  part- 
ing with  some  friends  we  concluded  that  was  his 
trouble.  The  time  for  our  good-by  soon  came, 
and  still  the  man  remained  standing  and  weeping. 
"  I  think  I  will  speak  to  that  man,"  she  said  ; 
"  he  seems  in  so  much  trouble."  As  the  train 
moved  off  she  was  standing  not  far  from  him, 
smiling  to  me,  and  he  still  in  tears.  The  next 
day  her  letter  came,  telling  the  sequel  to  our  inci- 
dent. She  writes  :  "  I  thought  you  would  like 
to  know  about  my  station  friend  and  his  sorrow. 
He  said  he  was  not  crying  over  parting  with  any 
one  on  the  train,  but  that  a  dear  boy  of  ten  years 
had  died  very  suddenly  this  week,  and  it  made 
him  feel  very  badly  to  think  of  him.  So  we 
walked  peacefully  out  of  the  station,  he  thanking 
me  for  speaking  to  him ;  as  he  was  a  Roman 
Catholic  he  thought  I  might  feel  there  was  a  great 
difference  between  us.  I  smoothed  that  out  and 
left  by  the  side  door.  Came  home,  and  have  just 
sent  money  for  a  memorial  to  Iowa,  for  Lizzie  Ma- 
goon  ;  the  mission  people  there  wish  to  found  a 
permanent  scholarship  in  Turkey  to  her  memory." 
Now  she  has  gone  it  is  a  fragrant  memory  that 
these  her  own  words  bring  to  us.  They  are 
the  sweet  breath  of  her  kindness  and  charity. 
Hers  was  indeed  a  brave  and  gracious  spirit  in 
the  midst  of  trouble  and  loss. 
10 


Years  ago,  when  a  little  daughter  was  suddenly 
taken  from  our  home,  her  ministrations  were 
wonderfully  comforting.  She  came  to  us,  and 
tenderly  helped  us  to  bear  the  first  burden  of  our 
grief.  It  was  not  so  much  what  she  said  or  did : 
her  presence  was  the  benediction.  Others,  too, 
have  borne  a  similar  testimony  to  her  consoling 
kindness  when  death  had  invaded  their  house- 
holds. She  was  not  a  friend  for  sunshine  alone : 
the  shadows  of  life  revealed  her  truly  friendly. 
Lavish  in  her  generous  thought  for  others,  it  was 
need  rather  than  worthiness  that  appealed  to  her 
sympathetic  nature.  Her  bounty  was  freely  be- 
stowed, her  time,  her  money,  and  often  her  prayers 
and  efforts,  to  influence  the  mind  and  heart. 

How  lovely  she  was  in  taking  to  her  home  at 
the  seashore  the  various  young  boys  in  the  family 
circle !  To  them,  as  if  they  were  her  own,  she 
gave  what  her  own  sons  enjoyed :  the  privileges 
of  home,  the  blessings  of  ocean  air  and  woods,  and 
the  freedom  to  enjoy  it  all  to  their^hearts'  content. 
These  young  men,  now  in  the  stir  and  business  of 
life,  look  back  on  the  summers  of  their  childhood 
and  youth  with  affectionate  gratitude. 

What  "  Aunt  Sallie  "  did  for  them  and  was  to 
them  cannot  be  told  here  ;  but  it  is  written  in  grate- 
ful hearts ;  and  to  her  boys  her  memory  is  a  treasure 
growing  brighter  as  time  separates  the  yesterday 
from  the  to-day.  S.  N.  L. 


ii 


I  FIRST  saw  Mrs.  Stevens  in  a  meeting  of 
the  Boston  Women's  Christian  Temperance 
Union  more  than  twenty  years  ago.  Her  exceed- 
ingly pleasing  personality  and  earnest  spirit  enlisted 
my  interest  and  won  my  love.  I  soon  learned  that 
she  was  a  woman  to  be  trusted.  Her  work  was 
the  outburst  of  a  heart  full  of  love  and  self-sacrifice. 
Finding  people  in  need  of  help,  she  paused  not 
to  ask  how  they  came  to  be  in  that  condition,  but 
her  soul  and  hand  instantly  responded  to  meet 
their  need  —  her  voice  so  tender  in  encourage- 
ment to  those  less  fortunate  than  herself!  The 
spirit  of  personal  sacrifice  was  with  her.  The 
blessings  of  her  own  life  and  love  only  stimu- 
lated her  purpose  to  do  for  the  weary,  sick,  and 
wretched  that  one  has  not  far  to  seek  to  find. 
The  instances  of  her  unostentatious  charities 
were  multitudinous,  she  standing  in  the  back- 
ground, content  to  know  that  wretchedness  was 
alleviated,  then  passing  on,  ever  a  ministering 
angel. 

She  proclaimed  the  spiritual  enlightenment  of 
her  later  days  without  fear  of  criticism.  She  lived 
it,  ever  hungering  for  more.  Now  she  has  entered 
within  the  veil ;  now  she  sees  eye  to  eye  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  Father's  love. 

E.  M.  H.  R. 


12 


FROM   A    FRIEND    IN    LONDON 

MY  first  meeting  with  dear  Mrs.  Stevens 
was  at  some  mission  services  at  the  North 
End  in  Boston.  She  was  helping  with 
the  music  mainly,  but  her  generous  spirit  seemed 
to  overflow  everywhere,  and  to  bring  warmth  and 
light  wherever  she  was.  It  touched  one  man  re- 
markably, and  he  told  me  months  afterwards  that 
the  change  in  his  life  from  wretchedness,  poverty, 
and  sin  to  a  comparative  prosperity  was  due  to 
Mrs.  Stevens.  At  those  meetings  she  was,  per- 
haps, the  most  generous  woman  alive.  It  was  her 
instinct  to  pour  forth  with  a  loving  hand  the  fullest 
possible  measure  of  all  she  had  to  give  to  whoever 
was  needy  and  receptive.  Her  hospitality  was 
boundless.  I  found  it  impossible  to  refuse  her  re- 
quest, seconded  as  kindly  by  Mr.  Stevens,  that  I 
would  make  their  house  my  home  for  a  consider- 
able part  of  my  stay  in  Boston.  In  vain  I  urged 
that  I  had  no  possible  claim  on  their  hospitality  : 
she  would  take  no  denial,  and  it  ended  in  my 
coming  and  in  my  staying.  In  that  house  I 
learned  lessons  I  can  never  forget  of  sunny  benef- 
icence and  eagerness  to  befriend  every  one.  Her 
sympathies  were  so  universal  that  there  was  no 
limit  to  her  bounty.  She  cared  passionately  for 
music,  for  literature,  and  was  ever  improving  her- 
self in  both,  but  always  her  keenest  desire  was 
for  what  was  spiritual  and  religious.  On  such 
subjects  her  blue  eyes  got  brighter  and  more 
expressive,  and  I  often  thought  she  restrained 


herself  in  speaking  lest  she  should  be  over- 
vehement.  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  it  was 
only  last  July  that  we  met  for  the  last  time  on 
earth.  Mr.  Stevens  and  she  spent  an  evening  at 
my  home,  as  I  much  wished  them  to  meet  my 
brother,  the  Bishop  of  Lucknow,  and  his  wife.  I 
feel  now  that  I  ought  to  have  realized  that 
the  wonderful  added  sweetness  and  unearth- 
liness  were  signs  that  she  was  soon  to  rise 
to  a  higher  sphere.  Every  subject  that  she 
touched  seemed  beatified ;  her  manner  was 
quieter  than  usual,  but  it  was  radiant.  Once 
more  I  dined  with  them,  and  then  she  sailed  away, 
promising  that  if  possible  they  would  spend  two 
evenings  with  me  on  their  return.  Alas !  she 
came  back  only  to  die  in  our  midst.  I  found 
Mr.  Stevens  calm,  but  fully  alive  to  the  danger. 
"  She  is  very  weak,"  said  he.  When  I  said  so  to 
her  she  replied,  "  I  have  all  the  strength  that 
there  is,"  and  so  she  had,  for  underneath  were 
the  everlasting  arms  of  God.  Not  many  hours 
after  I  was  allowed  to  see  the  beloved  remains. 
Very  beautiful  was  the  sight.  Perfect  sweetness 
and  gravity,  and  perfect  content,  were  manifest  on 
that  grand,  beautiful  face.  It  seemed  to  have 
grown  in  dignity  and  power,  but  it  was  herself, 
or  rather  it  was  the  impress  of  herself  left  there 
for  our  comfort  by  her  redeemed  spirit.  May 
Christ  her  Saviour  vouchsafe  to  us  too  a  spirit 
set  free  from  the  world  and  steadfastly  set  on 
those  things  which  are  above ! 

EDWARD  CLIFFORD. 

14 


Extract  from  a  letter  from  Mr.  John  Harring- 
ton Keene  to  Mr.  Stevens : 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  goodness  and  kind- 
ness which  breathed  in  every  word  Mrs.  Stevens 
wrote  me,  and  I  cannot  express  to  you  the  com- 
fort my  own  dear  wife  has  derived  from  a  little 
book  she  sent  me,  c  The  Golden  Ladder,'  by 
Miss  Lida  Clarkson.  It  has  seemed  just  the 
word  in  season  my  wife  wanted,  and  we  both 
mourn  the  loss  of  one  who,  though  personally 
unknown  to  us,  seemed  to  appreciate  and  under- 
stand so  clearly  those  she  came  in  contact  with, 
and  to  be  so  sweet  and  gracious  in  every  way. 
.  .  .  I  saw  so  far  into  the  beautiful  nature  of 
this  sainted  lady  that  I  cannot  find  language  at 
this  time  to  say  how  grieved  I  am.  She  seemed 
always  to  me  to  embody  the  thought  of  George 
Eliot  in  the  aspiration  : 

.     .     .     "  *  May  I  reach 

That  purest  heaven,  be  to  other  souls 

The  cup  of  strength  in  some  great  agony, 

Enkindle  generous  ardor,  feed  pure  love, 

Beget  the  smiles  that  have  no  cruelty, 

Be  the  sweet  presence  of  a  good  diffused 

And  in  diffusion  ever  more  intense  ! 

So  shall  I  join  the  choir  invisible 

Whose  gladness  is  the  music  of  the  world.' ' 


SARAH    EARLE   STEVENS 

FAREWELL,  dear  soul,  who  faithfully  hath 
trod 
Life's  gloomy  rooms  wherein  so  long  in  vain 
We  search  for  pearls  of  price  where  griefs   have 

lain, 

Bearing  thy  lamp  clear  with  the  light  of  God  ; 
Throwing  unwavering  radiance  abroad 
Into  the  farthest  recesses  of  pain; 
Showing  the  weary  seeker  Heaven's  gain, 
And  wells  of  peace  for  love's  divining  rod. 
Oh,  never  more  will  those  same  shadows  move 
Which  thou  dispelled!      In  one  another's  eyes 
The  angels  pale.     Grief  cannot  seem  so  blest, 
Nor  sin  so  true  a  leading-string  of  love, 
Until  perchance  we  win  to  Paradise 
By  that  same  path  thy  gentle  feet  have  pressed. 

MARY  E.  WILK.INS. 


16 


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